“Right, I’ll put on some pants and a t-shirt, and then, I’ll go talk to her. We need to set up rules for her just walking in.”
“Yeah, we do,” Trista agreed. “And maybe, we should lock the back door if we’re going to have sex in the kitchen again.” It was good to hear her say that they were going to actually try this again.
“Right,” he agreed. “I’ll talk to her about knocking and we’ll lock the doors from now on.”
“All right,” Trista said. “When she’s gone, come find me in the shower. I think that I’d like to finish what we just started.”
“Now, that sounds like a good plan, honey,” he agreed. “I won’t be long.”
“See you soon,” she promised. Joel grabbed some clean clothes that he had folded out of the laundry basket and pulled them on. He was going to deal with Melody, and then, he was going to find his girl and finish what they had just started. As far as mornings went, this one might have started off crazy, but he planned on a happy ending—one way or another.
* * *
They were having dinner when the front doorbell rang, and Joel nearly choked on his steak. “Who the hell could that be?” Trista asked. When Savage or Melody stopped by to bring them provisions, or just check on them, they just came in through the back door. Of course, they always called or texted to let them know that they were on their way. Melody liked to joke that walking in on the two of them naked wasn’t her idea of a good time. Sure, that had happened once, and Joel learned an important lesson to lock the back door before having sex with Trista in the kitchen, but his partner should have known not to just barge into his home.
Trista got up from the table and grabbed her gun from the kitchen counter. “I’ve got it,” she insisted.
“Um, I think that we can at least check to see who it is first before we show up guns blazing,” Joel teased.
“No one rings the bell, Joel,” she insisted. “This feels like a setup.” It did, and she was right, but he wasn’t about to tell her that and make her worry even more. They made a good team—he was the optimist, and she was the pessimist in the relationship, and that worked for them.
“Right, and that’s why I’m going to answer the door,” he insisted.
The bell rang again, and Trista rolled her eyes at him. “We can stand here and argue about all of this, or we can just agree to answer the door together.”
“Fine, but if this goes south, I want you behind me,” Joel ordered.
“If this goes south, I’m betting that we’ll both be dead,” Trista corrected. She followed him to the front door and no matter how many times he tried to shove her behind his body, she got to the door first and pulled it open, gun pointed at the guy standing on his porch.
Joel stepped in front of her and stared the guy down, “Can I help you?” he asked.
“I’d like to speak to my sister,” the man said.
“I think that you have the wrong address,” Joel insisted. “I live here alone, and I’m pretty sure that your sister isn’t here.”
“She’s standing right behind you,” the man said, nodding to Trista. Her gasp filled the entryway and Joel stepped aside as she tried to shove him out of the way.
“Peter,” she breathed. “Is it really you?”
“Surprise,” the guy said, waving his hands in the air as if he had just jumped out at the guest of honor at a birthday party. “It’s really me.”
“Trista,” Joel said, putting his hand on her shoulder, “are you all right?”
“No,” she breathed, “I’m not all right. My dead brother is standing on your porch.” Joel looked the guy over, “He doesn’t look dead to me,” he said. “You want to tell us what’s going on here, man?” Joel asked. Trista laid her gun on the table that he had by his front door.
“I’d like to handle this, Joel,” Trista insisted.
“Are you sure?” he asked. She didn’t look to be sure about anything, but he wanted to give her time with her brother if that’s what she wanted.
“I’m sure,” Trista whispered.
Trista
Trista walkedout to the porch where her brother was standing. She looked him over as if trying to find some clue that he wasn’t who he claimed to be. “Do you want me to come out with you, honey?” Joel asked.
“No,” she whispered, “I’ve got this. I need to talk to him alone.” She turned back just in time to see the hurt on Joel’s face and that wasn’t her intent, but she’d have to fix that later. Right now, she wanted to figure out if the man standing next to her was really Peter.
“You’re dead,” she breathed.